


Whispers of the Gods

by katiebour



Series: Whispers of the Gods [1]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss, Muteness, Sibling Rivalry, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebour/pseuds/katiebour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let us be silent, that we may hear the whispers of the gods"- Ralph Waldo Emerson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day Before the World Ended

**Author's Note:**

> Hawke dreams of his last day in Lothering.

Kade shifted in his sleep and muttered silently- he wasn’t in his bed, in his mansion in Hightown; he didn’t feel the soft blanket in his clenched fingers, nor did he hear the last few pops out of the nearly dying fire.

Kade was back in Lothering, awake and aware in the Fade, in the place that looked like home.

He’d woken with the dawn on that day, the same as any other, and sat up slowly, watching as the sky shifted from the dark purple of pre-dawn through the glory that was a clear Ferelden sunrise. He’d had a drink of water from the clay mug on the little wooden side-table- he’d made the table years ago, and although the wood had darkened with smoke and age, it was still as sturdy as the day he’d first put hammer and nail to carefully shaped oak.

He’d heard Mother in the kitchen, the familiar sounds and smells of breakfast such a simple pleasure, back then.

Bethany would sleep for another hour- no need for her to be up, yet.

He’d pulled on his simple homespun clothes and headed out to the barn, just another day, just another day.

After feeding and milking the cow, he’d carried the pail back to the house and set it just inside the lean-to that led to the kitchen, then headed back outside to wash at the pump before breakfast.

He shook droplets of water out of his hair. It was getting long enough to curl at his neck- he’d have to have Beth cut it later.

He’d come inside and up behind his mother, who was stirring chopped apples fresh from old man Barlin’s orchard into the porridge, and hugged her.

“Kadin, put me down,” she’d scolded, laughing, spoon in hand as he’d lifted her and whirled around, the corner of her eyes wrinkling with a smile while she laughed like a girl.

He set her down and gave her a grin when she mock-tapped him with the end of the spoon, as if he were a lad getting too fresh at a country dance, and she a lass, fan in hand.

“Sit down and eat,” she said, never able to be angry at him for more than a day at most, the most isolated of her three children.

Carver was off with the King’s army, for glory and honor and all of that nonsense- Beth, for all that she was an apostate, like Malcolm had been, like Kade, was young and fresh and pretty and sweet, and enough in control of her magic that she made regular trips into the village, charming the local lads as they sold her the produce of their farms for a fraction of the price, the balance of the payment more than made up for by her sweet smile, gentle temper, and honeyed voice.

Kade was handsome enough, it was true, and had as much control as Beth over the lightning in his soul and the earth at his feet. But a childhood injury had robbed him of speech, and although he could smile and laugh his silent laugh, could hear and gesture and nod, he could no more talk with a pretty lass or a handsome lad than his mabari, and in a village full of illiterate farmers his carefully penned notes were of less use than a stick figure.

And Kade was rubbish at drawing, completely.

His family had learned to cope, asking him yes-and-no questions, waiting patiently for his notes, learning to read him as much by expression and gesture and a selection of laboriously worked-out signs, but home was the only place where he felt normal.

As normal as a mute apostate in a family full of apostates could feel, anyway.

He signed to his mother, _color morning outside, beautiful, go see,_ and she nodded, poking her head out the door for a look, sighing in contentment at the last few rays of brilliant orange and red streaking across the sky.

“Thanks, love,” she said, and he smiled, handing her a folded piece of paper.

She unfolded the top of the paper, as was their custom, and read, “A bann returned to the king, laden with gold, and laid it at his feet. ’Tell me of your battles,’ said the king.”

She undid the next fold, and continued aloud- “The bann replied- ‘Well, sire, I have been robbing and stealing on your behalf for weeks, burning all of the villages of your enemies in the north.’”

She looked over at Kade, and he grinned back at her, barely holding in his silent laugh.

She smiled back and continued to read: ”The king was horrified. ‘But I have no enemies in the north,’ he said.”

Kade snickered silently as she unfolded the last bit of paper and read:

“‘Well,’ said the bann, ‘you do now.’”

He started laughing and so did she, handing him back the piece of paper with a shake of her head.

“You terrible boy,” she scolded, “How do you even come up with these things?” But her eyes were twinkling and he knew she’d be smiling all morning.

“To the field with you then,” she said, and he gave her a pleading, puppy-eyed look, along with a few signs- _I stay here morning, afternoon, sleep, eat, get fat,_ he gestured.

“Oh, I don’t _think_ so,” she said. ”You’ll have to bring me a few sacks of gold from our enemies up north to get a day off, my lad.”

He mock-pouted at her, then stood up, patting his leg. Rand got up from the fireplace with an audible sigh, stretching, and with a wag of his tail, followed Kade outside.

**********

A/N- Well, this is my first Kade story! He's based off of my OC Gavin from _The Demon You Know_ , and I'm not quite sure exactly how much I'm going to write with him. But I'll mark this as explicit because I'm pretty sure there will be sex at some point. If it's a story of mine, there's about a 98% chance of smut, heh. I'm not really sure where we're going with Kade- he's my newest Hawke and I haven't even picked an LI for him yet! Technically he's single, heheheh!


	2. The Day the World Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst day of Kade's life.

Kade panted like a mabari, adrenaline running through him like wildfire.  _Darkspawn-_ legends, the stuff of nightmares, the threat every naughty child in Ferelden heard- “Be good, or the ‘spawn will get you.”

Apparently they hadn’t been good enough.

When his mother broke down, exhausted, weeping, he put an arm around her.  _Not dead_ , he signed, _dead worse, right?_

She gave him a wan smile, and Carver glared, as Carver always did.  Beth sat on a nearby rock, as tired as he- her fireballs were getting farther and in-between, and Kade wondered idly to himself if they might perhaps run out of darkspawn soon, please and thank you very much.

There was only so much mana a mage could muster in a morning, he thought to himself, pleased by the alliteration, and filed it away to write down, later, when they were away from all of this, safe, somewhere, his mother and his sister and even his sulky little brother.

A rock clattered behind them and Kade sighed, readying his staff.

No, they just weren’t that lucky.

 _Go!_   he gestured impatiently, _go go go.  Dark-child, again._

His mother got up and wearily began to back away, and Kade gritted his teeth and called lightning.

Twelve darkspawn and ten minutes later, Beth burst out- “We can’t keep wandering aimlessly around like this!”

Kade bared his teeth at her, his patience nearly exhausted.  _Beth!  Away from dark-child, don’t care!_

Carver rolled his eyes.  “Oh, anywhere as long as we’re away from the darkspawn, huh?  Well how about if we end up in the belly of a dragon, or drowned in a swamp, or maybe we’ll just starve to death?”

Kade reached out and smacked Carver on the head, drawing a yelp from the younger, broader man.

Carver bristled.  “Sod off, Kade, I _know_ what they do.  I was at Ostagar while you stayed at home, remember?”

Kade began to slowly put down his staff.  _Too long I kick your ass, huh?_ he gestured, mouthing the words for extra emphasis.

“Oh, try it, then,” Carver said, and began to put down the sword he carried.

“Stop it!” Leandra said sharply.  “Maker’s sake, Carver, stop baiting your brother.  And Kade, the same goes for you.”

 _Too easy,_ Kade agreed nonchalantly.  _Not fair, poor, poor Carver._

“Oh, that’s _it-_ “ Carver said, and only Beth hanging onto his arm for dear life stopped the imminent brawl.

“Are you two terminally _stupid?_ ” she hissed.  “Time and a place, and not in the middle of a horde of darkspawn, if you please.”

Kade sketched a mockery of a bow.  _My lady._

“We can go to Kirkwall,” Leandra said, suddenly, and Kade grimaced for _real_ this time.

 _Circle, Mother?  Not first wish,_ he signed, looking at her quizzically.

“We have an estate and good standing,” she said, confidently.  “They won’t be able to touch either of you, and you’re both old enough to be careful.  And-“ the veneer of sudden confidence cracked, and she looked old, suddenly, old and scared.  Carver put an arm around her, the little boy in him still wanting to look after his mother.

“What else can we do?” she said helplessly, and Kade had no answer for her.  Kirkwall was as good, or bad, as any other place, and as far away as the Black City itself at this point.

“We’ll have to get to Gwaren and take ship,” Beth said after a moment’s thought- “Sorcha’s husband is from there.  Was,” she corrected, sadly, after a moment, and her chin trembled.  “Are they all dead then, Auntie Miriam and Sorcha and Peaches and-“ she took in a deep breath, and Kade put out a hand to steady her.

 _We here,_ he signed gently. 

“Right,” Beth said, and gripped his hand.

******************

 Kade would have laughed aloud if he could have.  The fiery red-haired woman had a Templar husband, and in the middle of a sodding _Blight_ with a horde of ‘spawn on their heels, the fellow was trying to collar them as apostates.

He waved off the man’s blustering and turned his back, ready to go, but when an armored gauntlet gripped his shoulder, Kade turned, slow, easy.  He might get one spell off before the templar drained him, and Carver’d have to take the redhead, but Beth was there, and between the three of them and his faithful Rand, they’d come out of it yet-

“Wesley,” the redhead sighed.  “Dear, they saved us.  The Maker understands.”

 _The Maker isn’t home, please leave your card with the butler and try again tomorrow,_ Kade thought irreverently.

“Keep your distance, apostate,” the templar said, looking from him to Beth and back again. 

Kade pointed to his eyes with two fingers, then pointed them emphatically at the templar.  _I’m watching you,_ the gesture said, and the templar’s eyes narrowed.

“Bite but no bark, eh?” he answered.  “I’m watching _you_ as well- remember it.”

Kade hefted his staff- if the bastard tried to hurt Bethany, he’d-

“That’s my _brother_ you’re talking to,” Carver said suddenly, the unsaid _and nobody threatens him but me_ making Kade grin in spite of everything.

They stood for a moment, shoulder-to-shoulder, and when the templar turned to go, Kade clapped Carver on the shoulder, then wiped away an imaginary tear.

 _Beautiful, going cry, little brother._

“Shut up,” Carver muttered, and gave him a shove.

Ten minutes later Carver opened his mouth again.  “We’re going the wrong way,” he said, finally, “any further and we’ll be in the Wilds.”

 _And?_   Kade gestured in irritation.

“And it’s the _Wilds,_ idiot, with Chasind and witches and blight wolves and probably a few darkspawn.  Forget Gwaren, we should head north along the road, aim for Denerim.”

“We can’t go north,” Aveline said, shortly.  “The ‘spawn followed Wesley’s path south.  It’s no safer.”

“It’s a _road,_ ” Carver maintained, stubbornly, “with people and post-coaches and guards.  Better than getting eaten by the Chasind.”

“I’m telling you, it’s _gone,_ ” Wesley gasped- the slice in his back must have been worse than they thought.

 _South or die?_ Kade signed.  _South, please._

“Listen to your brother,” Leandra added, “If it’s blocked to the north we’ll just have to chance it.”

Carver sulked for the rest of the afternoon.

*************

 A sudden shudder of the ground warned him, a second too late, and Kade opened his mouth in a futile, silent scream.

 _Carver!  Run, run Beth!_

He was too, too late, and when the giant creature grabbed his baby sister, crushing her in its grip before breaking her body against the ground, Kade nearly fell to his knees.

 _No, no Maker, it should have been me.  Please, it should have been me-_

The beast stared at him, a hint of intelligence in its small, beady eyes, and a moment later the world exploded into lightning.

Kade threw bolt after bolt, the ground shaking as he picked up the earth itself and _threw_ it at the creature, pulling electricity from a cloudless sky, screaming voicelessly over and over

 _No, no, Beth, my Beth, no, take me, take me-_

Carver was killing the creatures, mouth open in the same rictus of grief, screaming obscenities at the oncoming horde.  Aveline fought silently, focused, strong, her templar faltering to the ground behind her.  Leandra was crumpled next to Beth, rocking the small body back and forth.

One of the creatures screamed at him and Kade screamed back, right before he bent the fabric of space to throw the beast to the ground.  Lightning arced out of the sky and stabbed through the body, making it dance in a macabre parody of life.

Some time later, surrounded by the dead, they stopped coming.

Kade faltered as he dropped beside his mother, tears spilling down his cheeks.  _No, no, no no nonono._

“Bethany-“ she said brokenly, “Wake up.  The battle’s over, we’re fine-“

Aveline limped over, Wesley struggling behind her.  “I’m sorry, Mistress, your daughter is gone.”

“No,” Leandra averred with determination.  “These... _things_ will _not_ take Bethany.”

Kade reached out, holding the small, work-roughened hand in his- so small, and still warm, a mere half-hour earlier she’d been talking, smiling-

“She died bravely,” Carver said, and only Kade saw how he was shaking like a leaf.

 _Of all of the people to hold it together, who’d have thought Carver?_

But he was right-

“I don’t _want_ a hero,” Leandra said, voice low and rough.  “I want my daughter.  This is _your_ fault-“

She looked up, and they both flinched as though they’d been struck.

“How could you let her charge off like that?  My little girl, my sweetheart-“

The templar offered his Chantry condolences, words that meant nothing, did nothing, fixed nothing, and Carver and Kade rose to their feet as one, Kade following on Carver’s heels.

Kade pulled Carver around roughly.  _No,_ he gestured, _Mother wrong.  Not you.  Not me._

He wished he could absolve himself as readily as he absolved his brother.

“Fuck _off-_ “ Carver said, pushing him away.  “If anyone should have died, it should have been _you_ there.  Beth had everything, a whole life ahead of her.”

Kade closed his eyes.  _True,_ he gestured, listlessly.

 _“No,”_ Carver said, suddenly, shoving him again.  “That’s not fucking right either, even if-“ his voice hitched- “even if I could blame you, it’s no better than blaming myself.  No, Kade.”

Hungry, animal sounds approached up the path, and Kade shook his head.  It didn’t matter, because they would all be dead in moments, overrun, outnumbered, exhausted.

 _Stay back,_ he signed to Carver, and wondered if _now_ was a good time to open his wrist and invite doom, to practice the final, forbidden, desperate act that every mage thought about.

 _I might save Carver, and Mother-_

When the dragon bellowed above them, Kade laughed silently, incredulously.  Of all of the ways to die he’d imagined today, being eaten by a dragon wasn’t even on the list.

And when it swooped down, smashing into the oncoming horde and leaving them mercifully alone, Kade wondered if he _had_ slit his wrist, and maybe he was insane, or dead, and this was the Void, or the Maker’s last grand joke-

And when it resolved with a spasm of power that made Kade's knees weak, a woman, young-old, strange, with eyes the color of gold, armored and taloned hand still idly dragging a darkspawn, Kade wondered whether this was better, or worse.

"Well, well," she purred, "It used to be we rarely got visitors to the Wilds.  And now they arrive in hordes."

 _Did the dragon just make a pun?_


	3. The Day the World Ended, Part II

Kade looked at Carver, who stepped forward, full of fear and false bravado.  “What are you?  How did you turn into a dragon?”

 _And I’d_ love _to learn that little trick,_ Kade thought, signing _dragon, teach?_ to Carver.

Carver glared at him, and Kade repeated himself, insistently.

“My brother wants you to teach him how to turn into a dragon,” Carver said, scowling, “Although I bet he didn’t think about, oh, I don’t know, _getting stuck that way_.”

The young-old woman laughed, examining Kade more closely.  “I see,” she said, “The templars have left their mark on you, haven’t they, silent child?  So much going on in that head of yours.”

Carver looked at Kade, confused, and Kade shook his head.  He and Father had kept it a secret for nearly twenty years- he wasn’t ready to confess to his mother and brother about the nature of the “accident.”

“If you seek to escape the horde, you should know that you’re going the wrong way,” the young-old woman said offhandedly, then turned to go.

“Ha!” Carver said under his breath, and Kade glared at him.  _Help, Carver!_

“You’re not just going to leave us,” Carver said, suddenly realizing.

“And why not?” the woman replied.  “I spotted a most curious sight- a mighty ogre, vanquished, and I thought to myself ‘Who could accomplish such a feat?’  And here you are, my curiosity is sated, and you’re safe, for now.”

 _Tell her going boat, home._   Not for the first time he lamented the limits of their improvised sign language- Maker, he couldn’t even say “Gwaren” or “Kirkwall” without writing it out.

“We’re going to Gwaren, and from there to Kirkwall,” Carver translated.  “But we can’t make it on our own- please, help us.”

The woman’s gaze sharpened.  “My, but that is quite the voyage you’re planning.  So far, simply to escape the darkspawn?”

“We have family there,” Carver said, “And our home is gone.  We’ve nowhere else to go.”

“I see,” the woman said, thoughtfully.  “Hurtled into the chaos, you fight, and the world will shake before you.  Is it fate or chance, I can never decide...”

Kade raised an eyebrow at her cryptic words.  _Is she trying to be frightening?  Pretend she’s a seer?  Now’s not quite the time for games of fortune-telling._

She turned around and stared right at Kade, and he started at the Look.

 _Maker, it’s almost like she knows what I’m thinking._

She laughed, then, and said, “It appears that fortune smiles upon us both.  I may be able to help you yet.”

 _Too easy,_ Kade signed to Carver, distrustfully.

“There must be a catch,” Carver replied, and the woman laughed, dismissing Carver and facing Kade outright.

“There’s always a catch- _life_ is a catch, clever child, and I suggest you catch it while you can!”

On a hunch, Kade looked her in the eye, and thought as hard as he could, _How do we know we can trust you?  We don’t even know what you are!_

She grinned at him then, conspiratorially, and replied to the words he hadn’t spoken, “How indeed, clever boy?  But know this, some call me Witch of the Wilds, Flemeth, _Asha’bellanar_ , ‘an old woman who talks too much,’ but I am the _only_ chance you have of reaching your destination.”

Carver gaped at her, and Aveline said something, but Kade couldn’t hear her over the surge of adrenaline in his veins, buzzing in his ears.

 _You can hear me!  You can hear what I’m thinking!_

The woman inclined her head. 

 _What do you want us to do?_   Kade thought at her.

“There is a clan of Dalish elves camped near Sundermount- deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari, and do as she asks with it.  Any debt between us is then paid in full.”

Kade frowned- it was still far, far too easy, a simple delivery in exchange for their lives.  He didn’t like it, at all, but they had to get to safety, Mother, Carver, Aveline and her templar husband-

“Not that one,” the woman said, her gaze landing on Wesley, and Aveline stood.

“Leave him _alone,_ ” she said, flatly, and Kade had no doubt that she’d throw herself at the dragon-woman, Flemeth, to protect the wounded man.

“What has been done to your man is already in his blood,” Flemeth replied, and when Aveline shook her head, the templar murmuring to her, Kade stepped forward for a closer look.

Wesley was pale, waxen, the veins on his face standing out- he looked like an animated corpse, lips blue, patches of skin bruising as if he’d been crushed by the idle fingers of a giant.

 _Help?_ Kade signed to Carver.

“Can’t you do something?” Carver said to Flemeth, who shook her head. 

“The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden, and they are beyond your reach, I’m afraid.”

The templar gasped out a few words to his wife, _please, slow death, can’t-_

Kade squatted next to her, and waited, trying to put as much sympathy in his expression as he could.  Putting his hand over the templar’s gauntleted fist, he looked at Aveline, and shrugged. 

 _I’ll do it if you can’t._

“No,” Aveline said, “I’ll...I’ll do it.”

Kade nodded and stood up, pulling Carver away.  After a minute a faint scream and a gurgle signaled the templar’s end.

Kneeling beside the body of his sister, Kade untied her favorite red kerchief, tucking it into a pouch on his belt.  Smoothing a hand over her hair, he closed his eyes for a moment.

 _Goodbye, Beth._

Getting to his feet, he pulled his mother with him, and putting an arm around her weeping form, hugged her.

Patting her shoulder, Kade signed when she looked up at him, finally.  _Go, Mother.  We go, now._

She nodded, wordlessly, tears streaming down her face, and when the witch changed back into a dragon, launching itself into the air and circling, the four of them started walking.

Rand walked closely by Kade’s side, wary, nervous of the circling dragon, on the alert, and Kade reached down, giving the dog a small head-rub.

***********

Kade startled awake, pillow faintly damp with tears.  Wiping his face, he took one shaking breath, then another, Rand jumping up on the bed to lean on him, all 150 pounds of comfort.

After a few minutes he got out of bed, a quick glance at the window confirming that it was still mid-night.

He lit the candle at his desk with a faint frown and a twist and _pull_ of the elements and the Fade inside him- he wasn’t a master of fire, by any stretch of the imagination, but he made do, enough to light a candle at least.

Paging through the creased pages of his journal, he flipped back to the beginning, back when the book had been a single prized possession in the hands of a refugee-turned-smuggler, so many years ago.  He didn’t need to read the words- some things you never, ever forgot, but the journal was Kade’s way of showing the world, of showing himself that he thought as deeply, felt as deeply, even if a word of it never passed his lips.  And someone reading the journal would never know that he was mute, that he was the man who’d gone to the Deep Roads and back, who’d set Hightown afire with talk and speculation and pitying glances- you’d never know.

He closed the journal and moved over to the little chest with his things from Lothering, and opening it up, took out the little red kerchief.

 _This belonged to Bethany._

And even if she was gone, body long since scattered by ‘spawn and predators and time, he’d never forget.  She’d been his baby sister, the one who’d followed him around and drawn him pictures and understood their little signs better than anyone else in the house, had been the little girl who’d grown up into a beautiful young woman with a whole life ahead of her.

Kade closed his eyes, then gently tucked the kerchief back in the chest and closed it.

He’d never forget.  Never.


End file.
